


Destcember 2018

by Leafdragon117



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bad Puns, Canon-Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cayde-6 Being Cayde-6 (Destiny), Chatlogs, Destcember 2018, Drabble Collection, Exos, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gift Giving, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, OC-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Savathun - Freeform, Serious Injuries, Swearing, Temporary Amnesia, Tevis is a ginger, The Dawning (Destiny), Video Game Mechanics, Wishful Thinking, its a mess, potential plotholes, songfics, technically all connected, varying lengths, void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-14 03:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16905165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafdragon117/pseuds/Leafdragon117
Summary: Destcember 2018, consisting of a prompt for every day of December. Can be anything, and in this case it's writing. Cuz I can barely art atm.Drabble collection, usually of OCs, sometimes of canon characters, doing random shit. Or watch me hurl my beloved characters into the black hell known angst.





	1. Guardian and Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning. Nessa-7 is found in an old Clovis Bray building on Mars, slumped amongst the bodies of so many others, by the ghost Aegis.

**MARS, Meridian Bay, DARK AGES**

There they were. No, they were a she. Yes, he knew this. She was an exo. She wasn’t a skeleton, but a rusting metal hull.

She gasped, sucking in dusty air that was useless to her Exo body. Her eyes flashed open and she took in her surroundings. She could feel..concrete. Yes, cold, hard concrete beneath her hands and under her legs. Her back was slumped against a wall. There was a light source. Coming from…

“...ardian? Eyes up, Guardian.”

_ Who…?  _ Her eyes swept upward into the light. It shone straight into her eyes, blurring the darkness around until all she could see was a ring of blue. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out but static.  _ That’s not supposed to happen-  _

“Hey, wait, calm down.”

_ Did the light just talk??? _

“I..uh, yes. I am a ghost. I’m... _ your _ ghost.”

A strangled sound tore itself out of her throat at last, a barely coherent and raspy “where am I”.

“Somewhere on Mars,” the “ghost” answered, “Do you remember anything? I’ve heard of Guardians remembering exactly who they are…” the light turned away from her, plunging her back into darkness but casting light on...another metal hull. 

She hacked a cough. The sound was strangled and choked with static at first, but finally smoothed itself over into normal voice. “Whoever you’re talking about...that’s not me.”

“You don’t remember anything?” The ghost turned back to her, except this time his, yes, his, judging by his voice, ring of blue was tilted curiously to the side.

“...I...I don’t know who I am. Do you?”

“Oh! Uh…” his shell broke apart and expanded, casting more light into the dark room, “I...uh, don’t know, exactly. You’ve been dead for awhile, an exo even longer.”

_ An exo?  _ She remembered...bits. A grinning face who’s features she could not recall, dark halls filled with the whirring of fans, the smooth fit of a knife and rifle in her hands.

“Nevermind. I’ll tell you more on the way. For now, we have to get out of here. It’s safe in this room for now, but not for much longer.”

“Why? Why can’t I stay here?”

The ghost paused, “I...I mean, you could. If you’d like. You don’t have to become a guardian.”

She fell silent, faced with what felt like a monumental choice, and in a way, it was. But the ghost...it’s shell’s tips were pointed downward...almost downcast.

“...Alright. I’ll go with you. Wherever we’re going.”

“Yay!” The ghost spun its shell happily. “Hold on, let me assemble some armor for you…” A beam of light shot out from the ghost’s eye, hitting some nearby items sporadically. Eventually, the items disappeared and a makeshift scarf and armor plating on her arms, legs, and chest. 

“That will have to do. Remember how to stand?” The ghost shot a beam of light at her legs, twirled, and gave a concerned hum. 

This she knew. She easily lifted herself out of the cobwebs and...other things so she was eye-level with the ghost. A rusted gauntlet filled only with a skeletal arm fell out of her lap, clattering noisily to the ground. 

“Oh no, I hope the Cabal didn’t hear that…” The ghost turned away from her, as if expecting a monster to leap out of the darkness.

“...Cabal?”

“..Uh...basically space turtles. Just aim for the head, kill on sight. Brutal.”

“Enemies, then.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. Oh! And, here’s a gun. It’s not the pick of the flock, but I can…” he shot a beam of light at an old auto rifle, “Ha! Take that, Golden Age rust! Good as new!”

She picked up the weapon, holding it up into the ghost’s light. It looked standard, nothing fancy about it. But around the iron sights was a pair of dog tags, with a seal that had the name “Clovis Bray” emblazoned on it. To the right was a rank and, more importantly, a designation. 

Nessa-7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only good drabble tbh.


	2. The Last City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nessa reminisces about the days before the walls were built.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on, these are actual drabbles. With nothing guiding them but my fingies typing at midnight every night.

“Hey. Nessa.”

“Hm?”

 

“You remember the city before it was the Last City, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What was it like?”

* * *

 

It was free. It was dangerous. It was wild.

 

Nessa walked through the encampment, her cloak drifting just below her knees, Aegis commenting on their patrol at her shoulder. It was dawn. The people were just waking up, shuffling out of their tents. Her armor was dirty and she could feel lack of sleep getting to her limbs, but she needed to talk to Zavala. Or Shaxx. Anyone. Let people know she was back before she was presumed dead.

“Nessa!”

_ Oh thank the Traveler.  _

“You took the night patrol did you not? What news?”

“I ran into a Fallen captain and his troupe of dregs and vandals not far from here, but they’re dust now.” She gestured to the mess that was her armor, “Do you need me for anything else? I’d like to clean this shit off, but it would be a waste if I need to get back out immediately.

“No,” Shaxx shook his head, “You look like you could use the rest. Clean your armor, and get some sleep. You work yourself to the bone too much.”

“I don’t have bones, and I could say the same to you!” She called behind her shoulder as she left, heading for her tent. 

Nessa’s tent was, quite honestly, one of the hardest tents to find. It didn’t stand out like Shaxx’s, which had a Cabal shield propped onto one of the sides, nor was it in a significant place, like the Speaker’s right underneath the Traveler, or Zavala’s, which was near the edge of the road. Even still, she had gone there enough to know exactly where it was. 

She sat outside her tent quietly, meticulously cleaning her armor. She was careful when cleaning off the caked mud to not rub off the various red streaks across her armor. One for each comrade who fell beside her. Too many.

* * *

 

It was hopeful, at least, when she watched the Arcstriders with their staffs bring home more and more refugees. Their numbers were growing. They welcomed each new person with a warm fire, food, rest, and most of all, protection. 

Music drifted out of a nearby tent as Nessa lay in hers, contemplating. It was an upbeat tune, no words followed the notes. She let herself enjoy it, this rare moment of peace. In any other case, she would be out the tent as soon as she was rested enough to go back. Soon, sleep overtook her, and her exo body began to turn off everything not vital.

Yet, as soon as she woke up and gotten her bearings, she was, in fact, out of the tent in a flash. Her cape was hung on one end of the tent from where she hung it to dry. Judging from the sun, it was midday. The encampment was abuzz with the sounds of life, fires crackling, people talking, and the boom of Shaxx’s voice ringing out. 

At least it was easy to find him. 

Nessa tapped his shoulder on the way past, “I'm heading out.”

“Be back by nightfall,” Shaxx warned, though it was practically useless.

“Ha, since when did  _ curfew _ stop me?” Case in point.

“Since the Fallen started getting stirred up. I don't need another missing hunter.”

“Fine fine,” Nessa started for the road, “I'll be back.” 

She left the encampment, rifle in hand. It would be best to try and find that Archon who'd been sighted a few times, never near the encampment, but still she was wary. 

Patrols were free. She could run for as long as she wished through the trees, and as a hunter, she thrived in the untamed wild, not t he walls she helped build. But there was wisdom in separating the people from the risk of the Fallen tearing down all they had started to recover. Nonetheless, the people were not her main concern. The wilds were.

And in the wilds was where she would stay.

* * *

 

“...it was okay.”

“What?! ‘Okay’?!”

“Yeah. Had its ups and downs. Pros and cons.”

“Do you prefer it like it was then? Or now?”

“...I think...I prefer the people safe. If walls and limits do the job, then so be it.”


	3. Living Without the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Red Legion attack. Nessa falls. Aegis is lost.
> 
> mild tw for robot amputation, not graphic, but there.

Her limbs ached. 

Darkness reached into her vision. 

Aegis.

Where was he? 

Where was her ghost?

Oh.

There he was. 

Under her hand. 

Under?

He should be floating above her hand.

He was falling. 

A scream of anguish and anger pierced the dark sky.

She was falling. 

Why was the city upside down?

Now it was right-side up.

Pain exploded on her left side. The fires faded to black.

* * *

Slowly, Nessa’s vision began to return. An orange glow peered into the darkness she lay in. 

_ What happened? _

_ Oh. _

The Cabal attacked. 

She had been gathering her fireteam. To help evacuate the civilians. Defend? Yes, that was what they did best. Fighting, instead of running. 

Shaxx. She’d seen the titan gathering the civilians of the Tower. Leilani and Nebula were with him. They went with her. They…

Where were they?

Her mind screamed at her to get up. There was something  _ wrong.  _ Like one of her limbs got cut off. 

_ Aegis.  _

Her ghost. Where was her ghost?

Painstakingly, Nessa grabbed a slab of concrete next to her and lifted herself up. Why was there rubble? 

_ Oh.  _

The orange glow from above was from the city burning. She lay in a building, several floors from the to. She had fallen in, then. 

_ How far did I fall? _

No matter. She needed to find Aegis. As she attempted to stand, she found that one of her legs was broken. Well, not broken, but smashed by a slab of concrete that split it right below the knee. So that’s where the pain was coming from.  

_ Only one way to fix it.  _

Doing her best to numb the pain receptors in her leg, she cut the rest of her leg free with a knife. She had a stump for a leg. 

_ Great.  _

Taking in her surroundings, Nessa found nothing of immediate use. There was no way to tell if she was on the ground floor, but maybe there was a stairwell. She set her faceplates and began the long and arduous journey outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohey this one is pretty good in my opinion.


	4. Little Joys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cayde has requested a particular list from Aegis, ghost of Nessa-7.

_ The following is a correspondence between Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6 and Aegis, ghost of hunter Nessa-7. _

* * *

 

**YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE**

**//To: [USER: Dash1ngV4ngu4rd]//**

**//From: [User: Icighoul]//**

**//** This is Aegis, Nessa’s ghost. It’s your rez-day, according to Sundance, so I have attached a quick list of things that have been proven to give Nessa joy, as per your ghost’s request:

..

-You, for one

-Walks in the open air

-Crucible matches

-hugging Shaxx

-Tower decorations

-GOOD tower decorations

-Pigeons

-Candy apples

-New guns

-GOOD new guns

-new knives

-pretty knives

-sparrow racing

-puzzles

-exploration

..

She also has a habit of people watching. Not sure if that’s at all helpful. 

..

Why do you need this list again?

**//END MESSAGE//**

* * *

 

**[Chatroom: Opened]**

_ //Start Log: 23:55// _

**[User: Dash1ngV4ngu4rd] has entered the chatroom**

**[Sub-user: Icighouls] has entered the chatroom**

**[Dash1ngV4ngu4rd]:** Heyyyyy Ae...hm, that doesn’t translate as well in text, does it?

**[Icighouls]:** No, it really doesn’t. 

**[Icighouls]:** Seriously, I meant my last question in that message. Why did you need that list? 

**[Dash1ngV4ngu4rd]:** For...things. Possibly betting. Maybe gift making. 

**[Icighouls]:** …

**[Icighouls]:** As long as it’s not too dangerous. You know she would...not like it...if you got yourself killed.

**[Dash1ngV4ngu4rd]:** Not! To! Worry! Perfectly within regulation, even big blue wouldn’t be able to tell me off for this one. 

**[Icighouls]:** I hope you’re right…

**[Chatroom: Closed]**

_ //End Log: 0:04// _

* * *

 

_ The following is a message found by Amethyst, ghost of titan Nebula Karthien. _

**//To: [User:Dash1ngV4ngu4rd]//**

**//From: [User:Speed0fLight]//**

 

//Hey, Cayde. Uh...thanks. For everything. 

..

Don’t die. 

..

You’re too important to die, and I’d hate to take your cape.

 

**//END MESSAGE//**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy fan lore thing almost a chatfic idfk


	5. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nebula and Leilani argue over the validity of a certain shader while Nessa regrets everything.

“Monochrome is a horrible shader, admit it.”

“Fuck no,” Nebula crossed her arms, “You’re just jealous that it doesn’t work on you and your fancy colorful robes.”

“Kids...kids can we please not…” Nessa laid her head on the table, mentally preparing herself to deal with two overgrown babies. Of course, her pitiful protest could barely be heard over Leilani’s increasingly loud voice. She couldn’t see with her forehead to the table, but surely the civilians around them were staring at the two Awoken with increased annoyance.

“Look at this shit! The black even gives it a  _ texture  _ for Traveler’s sake! It looks horrible!” To demonstrate, the warlock’s ghost produced a gauntlet that had the aforementioned black and white shader applied. 

“It looks fine, in my oh so humble opinion,” Nessa mentioned half-heartedly.

“That’s because you’re a  _ hunter _ . You guys slapped an overgrown beetle on a bracer once and called it the peak of fashion.” 

There it was. 

“Yes yes, hunters have no sense of fashion.” Nessa waved an arm, elbow leaning on the ramen shop counter, “Do explain how shoulder pads bigger than your head are much better?”

“They aren’t supposed to be fashionable,” Nebula sniffed, “besides, that was a phase, and it died out real fast.”

“This all goes to show that warlocks have the best fashion,” Leilani interjected, “titans put armor in the stupidest fucking places, and hunters are big ass disasters with no fashion sense whatsoever.”

“That’s because you don’t understand our fashion,” Nessa said under her breath. When Leilani shot a glare at her, she simply tilted her head in obvious faux innocence. 

Moderately peeved, Leilani turned back to Nebula, “So, as the sole warlock here and by default the expert on fashion, I can tell you that monochrome is a stupid fucking shader and you should never apply it to anything except the damn trash can.”

Sighing, Nessa picked herself off the ramen stool, “So...are you done with your black and white fight? Or do I need to drag you children into the Crucible to teach you how to get along? I’m sure Shaxx will find the team struggles...highly entertaining.”

And the with thinly veiled threat of getting their asses  _ thoroughly  _ handed to them by their mentor with centuries more experience hanging over them, the two awoken wisely shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahha this is pure effin bs


	6. In the Vanguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nessa has to deal with two very young idiots.

All was well in the world. There were no alien gods threatening to consume the solar system, no furry bugs trying to tear down the wall. They could talk above the Future War Cult room, and nothing required Nessa-7 and her fireteam’s attention that day.

Then came the question, completely out of the blue:

“What if we were the Vanguard?” 

Nessa’s hand slapped the front of her helmet before she could remind herself that she actually had a helmet on. In the place of a forehead to smack, the exo ran her hand down her helmet. It was just one question. One. Yet she could already see the number of headaches this conversation would spark.

Before Nessa had even started to groan, Leilani was already countering Nebula’s question, “How would we become Vanguard in the first place? Is there some sort of system to pick vanguard successors?” 

_ Why am I stuck with these two? Oh right, I decided it was a great idea to suddenly become a fucking parent and pick up two fucking kinderguardians. They don’t even know. Oh, such sweet summer children. _

“Sweet summer children”. Nebula and Leilani really weren’t sweet, nor summer children. But their naivety amused her.

“The titans and warlocks pick someone to mentor, of sorts, who become their successor. The hunters have a thing called the Vanguard Dare.”

“What’s that?”

“The current hunter vanguard dares another to do something. The rules are honestly rather messy,” Nessa explained. Her voice turned somber, reminding the younger guardians that their leader had seen far more than they ever will.

For a hunter, to be vanguard is to be caged, tied to the Tower.

“So...would it be possible for us to become Vanguard?” Leilani, so young as she was, asked.

Nessa shrugged, “If you feel like buttering up to Zavala or Ikora, go for it. Hell, I could walk right up to Cayde this moment, offering myself up as vanguard, and I’d have the position within the next 24 hours.”

“Why don’t you?”

Nessa stood up from where she sat against a stack of crates, “Because somebody took you in,” The hunter plucked her pulse rifle up from where it leaned against the same stack of crates, “and that somebody needs to make sure you can survive the Cabal Exclusion Zone.”

Audible groans could be heard from the two Awoken.

“Is this another test of yours?” Nebula sighed as she too picked up her gun, a shotgun. Fitting for her titan status. 

Nessa smirked beneath her helmet, “You never know. We’re in the hangar for a reason.”

“Fuck.” Leilani swore, “Here I thought we’d have a day off.”

“We are. The fun part is just beginning.”

“Your idea of  _ fun _ is running headfirst into the metaphoric shredder of the solar system?” Leilani deadpanned.

“No, that’s the Crucible. Where we’re going is the metaphoric  _ Hell _ of the solar system.”

“Shit.”

As Nessa’s cloaked figure walked to her ship, her laughs could be heard bouncing off the metal walls of the hangar. A bell toll to their doom. 

They would be dying over and over again tonight.

And it wasn’t necessary for Nessa to let her fireteammates know that this little “test” was a Vanguard Dare itself. One that Nessa aimed to win.

She hated being caged, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more bs tbh


	7. Say My Name [May be rewritten]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cayde hits his head a bit too hard.

“Cayde!” His voice was hoarse from repeating the same words over and over in the thick smoke. “Andal! Where are you idiots?”

 

They’d been separated during the attack. The scorch cannons were...unexpected. As a result, here Tevis was, a lone nightstalker _human_ trying to find his idiot friends who were probably still in the Lost Sector.

 

...which was burning, judging by the smoke steadily billowing out of the top of the building. Hell, it might even collapse soon.

 

There was still no sign of the other two hunters.

 

Tevis groaned to himself, reloading his scout rifle, “Guess I have to go back in, here goes fucking nothin’.”

* * *

 

Crouching low and with his helmet back over his face, Tevis was, for the most part, out of the smoke. Not out of danger yet, though. “Artemis, try the comms again,” he whispered as the void embraced him with its usual whispers and he shadestepped into another room.

 

“Contacting Andal and Cayde...nothing but static. I’ll keep at.”

 

Tevis sighed, tuning out the incessant voices of the void, “Any suggestions?”

 

“Uh...shoot some cabal.”

 

“...That’s as good of an objective as any, I suppose.” Tevis cracked his knuckles, “Let’s light this popsicle stand.”

* * *

 

“Get tethered motherfuckers!” Tevis cackled as he released his shadowshot, creating a mini-void in the middle of the room. The hive mindlessly wandering stumbled as the void snatched them up, overwhelming them with the combined voices of everyone who had ever whispered into it.

 

It was a simple task to blow their heads ceiling high after that.

 

“..evis? Tevis, come in.”

 

“It’s Andal!” Artemis exclaimed in surprise, “Guess the cabal had some sort of jammer or something.”

 

“Andal! Thank the Traveler, I was starting to think you’d died to some lowly hive shit for a second.” Despite his joking words, Tevis felt his body, tensed since they had lost contact, weaken in relief.

 

“Ha, it’ll take more than a simple Lost Sector to take me out,” Andal’s words were breathless, “But Cayde’s my bigger worry now.”

 

“Why?” Tevis straightened, seriousess returning to his voice, “What happened?”

 

“His thick skull hit a corner, one of the wizards got to him.” Andal reported, “They’re all dead, of course-”

 

Tevis got the impression that the whole room was sparking with arc blade slashes.

 

“-but our newest addition isn’t waking up.” He finished.

 

Tevis let his hood and helmet transmat away, his hand coming up to mess with his ginger waves, “Uuuhhh alright. I’ll be right there. Artemis, set a waypoint at their signal.”

 

“Marked.”

* * *

 

“How bad is it?”

 

Andal looked up as Tevis entered the room, reloading his scout rifle. “He’s woken up, once. Passed out again almost immediately.”

 

“Can’t Sundance heal him?”

 

“She has. He had a dent in the back of his head that got fixed, but…”

 

Sundance materialized over Cayde, “Physically, he’s all good. His mind...it’s a mess. It’s like his memories are all overlapping and mixing and just being really weird.”

 

Andal frowned and reached out to slap the exo, “Oi, wake up.”

 

Cayde shot straight up.

 

“Holy fuck!” Tevis swore, startled by Cayde’s sudden movement.

 

“Hey, Cayde. Buddy. Do you remember anything? How’s your head?”

 

Cayde blinked. Once. Twice. “...I….you…”

 

“Who am I? Say my name.”

 

“A…” his glowing eyes narrowed.

 

“C’mon bud. Just my name,” Andal encouraged.

 

“I...I don’t know…”


	8. Legacy of the Golden Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the journal of Nessa's younger brother.

_ Hey. So, uh. I guess I’m recording this for you, Ella. Well. They named you Nessa. Nessa-3, as I saw you as. _

 

_ If...if you don’t remember me, I’m your baby brother. My name...my name is [static]. _

 

_ I wish...I wish you never left. You didn’t have to go. I know….I know you thought mom didn’t love us, that all that mattered to her was Tom, but she...she was breaking down, you know. When you left. _

 

_ A guy came to us a bit after you left. Something about giving us compensation. Mother asked after you but he said it was classified. Mom turned him and the compensation away, even though we were..we weren’t doing so well.  _

 

_ I tried really hard to find you, you know. Snuck into a Clovis Bray facility, cuz that’s where you said you were going.  _

 

_ Actually, I did find you. Or more like, you found me.  _

 

_ I didn’t realize it at first. Then I broke into their records and found a list. And your name matched the one on that gun. _

 

_ After that, I promised to myself that I would make you remember.  _

 

_ So, attached is everything I ever found out. About you. About how you became Nessa.  _

 

**_[open file]_ **

 

_ I’m sickened, if I’m being honest.  _

 

_ That this, putting human minds into metal bodies, of making humans into literal war machines, is to be the legacy of one of the most brilliant minds of the Golden Age.  _

  
  



	9. They See Me Rollin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which NK and Seven-11 watch Jekyll-1 roll in.

“Where’s Jekyll? He should have been here two hours ago.” Seven-11 frowned, crossing his arms.

 

“He’ll be here,” NK shrugged, calmly swinging loading a shotgun shell by shell, “Besides, we don’t need to be on the move for another hour.”

 

“Still, Zavala said the sooner we get this done the better.” Seven sat down on his own tank in a huff, still obstinately looking out for the arrival of their resident idiot warlock. 

 

Then, faintly, it could be heard in the distance, reverberating through the caverns.

 

_ They see me rollin’, they hatin’ _

 

Jekyll-1 came into view, cracking a cringe-worthy pose on the turret of his tank, the pre-Golden Age music increasing in volume.

 

_ Patrolling and tryin’ to catch me ridin’ dirty _

 

Seven gaped. “For  _ fuck’s _ sake Jekyll.”

 

“You can’t say it’s not true,” the warlock in question pointed out as he approached. “Ya’ll really are  _ hatin’  _ on me  _ rollin’ _ .” 

 

NK raised a brow at the exos. “Now that Jekyll is here, can we go?” He guestured to the now three drake tanks at their disposal, “that cabal base isn’t gonna blow itself up.”

 

Seven nodded. “But we’ll be having  _ words _ , Jekyll-1.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nk, Seven-11, and Jekyll-1 belong to my good friend Nut.
> 
> Nutshaxx on Tumblr and HobblyWobbly on Ao3, go check her out she's amazing!


	10. What Do You Fight For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nessa finds herself chilled with a question that hangs over her head.

“What do you fight for?”

 

The question of the ages. Posed at almost every guardian out there. 

 

Andal stared her down, forcing Nessa to stay and decide it for herself. “Not what the Speaker says you fight for, not what I say you fight for. What do  _ you _ fight for?”

 

The exo was silent. She had been fighting meaninglessly for so long that she had forgot when she actually had something to fight for. 

 

“Give it some thought, yeah?” Andal clapped her shoulder, a warm smile in place. “Take a break. And that's an order.” 

 

The “Yes sir” came out before she could stop it. Groaning internally, Nessa nearly bolted out of the hall, Andal's laughter ringing out and warming all who heard it behind her.

 

In her rush, she nearly bowled Shaxx over, who had been coming down the stairs. She skidded to a halt barely centimeters away from touching her hemet to his medallion.

 

She dimly heard him exclaim something along the lines of her name. Nessa wondered why he was even away from his usual spot, but her mind scrambled back to the objective of “get the hell away from your embarrassment” before she could even respond.

 

She moved to dodge around her old friend, but he deftly wrapped his arms around her, closing the few-centimeter gap.

 

Nessa stiffened. 

 

“What's got you in such a hurry?” 

 

_ When was the last time I had a hug? I can't remember it's all been shooting and running and fighting and trying not to die and- _

 

“Hey.” His helmet is in her face. 

 

Black and white and orange.

 

Vaguely she thought about how the two of them were some of the very few people who kept their helmets on.

 

They were moving. 

 

Back up the stairs. Across the plaza. It was late, she noticed. 

 

The glow of the vaults shone into her eyes.

 

The north wing. Towards…she couldn't remember right then. And she decided she didn't need to. The solid presence of Shaxx's armor grounded her after weeks and weeks of hurling herself through the air.

 

She closed her eyes. Let the titan guide her where he will.

 

She was cold. Why was she cold? Exos didn't get bone-chillingly cold, right?

 

It'd started raining. 

 

Then it was warm. She loved the warmth. It reminded her of things long past, something she wanted to feel again and again.

 

There was wetness on her face. Yet her hood and helmet covered her face from the rain.

 

The Crucible Handler never returned to his post that night, and the hunter passed out on a couch, emotionally exhausted.

  
  


When the sun rose that morning, it shone on Nessa's cape before she disappeared down the hall. 

 

She saw Shaxx back at his post, yelling at some kinderguardian in the Crucible.

 

Cayde fell in step with her, rambling about this bet he made with Andal.

 

Andal’s chocolate-brown eyes looked up at Cayde’s voice, breaking into a smile when he saw the two of them. 

 

Nessa found herself thinking as she watched the other two hunters bicker. What did she fight for? 

 

She fought for all the reasons the Speaker called them guardians. She fought for her friends. She fought for the peace Shaxx brought her, the warmth Andal emanated, the smiles Cayde flashed freely. She fought for the smiles she called precious. She fought for every moment she could just  _ be _ instead of a pillar.


	11. Knowledge is Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some deep thoughts are revealed regarding knowledge and power.

“You know, Shaxx?” 

 

Shaxx looked up from his consoles to see Nessa sitting on the ledge, her feet dangling off into the city, “Know what?”

 

“...a lot of things, for one. But mainly, did you see Leilani in the Crucible just now?”

 

“I did. There's potent light in that one.” The warlock had single-handedly carried her entire team to victory, though granted that match had been built of newly registered kinderguardians.

 

Nessa grinned, “Found a good one, didn't I?”

 

“For you, yes.”

 

The hunter swung her legs over so that she was facing Shaxx, her back to the Traveler. “There's still a lot she doesn't know, though.”

 

“Yes. I noticed she doesn't really  _ think _ through her actions. It's all sheer power for her.” 

 

“I've yet to really teach her anything. I told her some things and chucked her into your Crucible.”

 

“Plenty of potential in that one, then.” Shaxx turned back his tablet, arranging for the next match, which had Leilani registered in the queue. Silently, he took her out of the low-level list and into a higher level one.

 

“A certain friend of mine once said “knowledge is power...especially if you have a knife”.” Nessa produced a throwing knife from out of nowhere, tossing it. “Leilani doesn't have a knife, so she'll make one of her light.”

 

“Where are you going with this?”

 

“Sheer power is great and all, but unless you know how to use and refine it…” she looked out into the sky, past the Traveler, trailing off. “...you're no better than the weakest guardian.” She finished quietly.


	12. Let it Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I make a traditionally happy song sad.

_ Oh, the weather outside is frightful _ _   
_ _ But the fire is so delightful _ _   
_ _ And since we've no place to go _ _   
_ _ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow _ __   
  


The prison was breaking down around her, bits and pieces aflame and crashing all the way down. Nessa sprinted as fast as she could, zipping around corners and not even stopping to shoot the scorn that hissed as she ran. She could do nothing, only run and run on and never stop.

_   
_ _ Man, it doesn't show signs of stopping _ _   
_ _ And I've brought me some corn for popping _ _   
_ _ The lights are turned way down low _ _   
_ __ Let it snow, let it snow

 

Five floors. Four. Three. Two.  _ Sundance-no!  _ The door. The abomination's arc bolts crackled in the dark. Desperation threatened to cloud her mind. The hulking mass had to die. For slowing her down. For being in the way. 

 

“Get the fuck  _ out of the way! _ ” she yelled. Her voice cracked and broke into static as she slammed the arcstaff down on the abomination.  _   
_ _   
_ _ When we finally kiss goodnight _ _   
_ _ How I'll hate going out in the storm _ _   
_ _ But if you really hold me tight _ _   
_ _ All the way home I'll be warm _ __   
  


The door at last slid open.

 

A gunshot.

 

A gunshot from the Ace. She could recognize it anywhere.

 

But its owner lay limp on the floor, and Uldren held the Ace instead.

 

Breathless, she could only hurl a hail of knives in his direction, but they only clattered the the ground, the door sliding up.

 

Leaving her with Cayde. Leaving her with a ghostless friend on her lap with a bullet in his chest.

_   
_ _ And the fire is slowly dying _ _   
_ _ And, my dear, we're still goodbying _ _   
_ _ But as long as you love me so _ _   
_ __ Let it snow, let it snow, and snow.

 

“Hey…” Cayde managed. His voice, so broken and so painful to hear, was a shot to the heart.

 

“Cayde…” 

 

“Don't...don't worry about me, Ness. One of use...one of us would've died sooner or later...just didn't think it'd be me…”

 

Her throat choked up in the tears she refused to let fall.  _ Don't you fucking die on me. Not again. Not you. _

 

Cayde let out a weak chuckle, static echoing out into the dimly lit room. “I'll admit...this is the best bet I ever…”

 

_ No no no no _

 

“...lost…”

 

_ NO  _ her mind screamed against it all. Not again, not another one. Why was it always her who survived? Again and again she lived while they died and she could do nothing to stop it…

 

_ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow... _


	13. Enemies of Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the enemies we fight on a daily basis are not the scariest ones around.

The rumors of “guardian killers” spread like wildfire.

 

Of shadowy figures creeping out of the darkness to strike at the ghosts who gave their guardians immortality.

 

Forget the Vex, ruthless unfeeling machines who were terrifying in their sheer ability to simulate. Who brought down the great Saint-14 and claimed the lives of countless others by trapping them in the confines of time itself.

 

Forget the Hive, who had spread like a disease across the universe, killing as their lives depended on it. Who arrived in Sol and wormed deep into the heart of the Moon. Who's secrets dealed deep into power and logic that would consume the minds of weaker men. Who threatened humanity as the coming dark once, twice, thrice, and now four times.

 

Forget the Cabal, who's sheer firepower and strength rivalled and even surpassed the peak of nuclear firepower in human history. Who brought down the Last City is mere hours after Ages of it standing strong.

 

Forget the Fallen, who were desperate enough to attack and almost overrun the Last City no less than two times. Who were forever the antithesis to the Guardians of the City. Who's cleverness had seen the crisis of SIVA and the Scorn. 

 

Remember Dredgen Yor. Remember the ones who turned their guns against their fellow lightbearers. 

 

Remember the Warlords. Remember the ones who took their light and used it to terrorize those weaker than them.

 

Remember the mistakes of the past.


	14. Chosen Undead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nessa questions Aegis' choice of guardian.

“Hey, Aegis?”

 

Her ghost materialized next to her shoulder, looking out across the brightly lit city at night, “Yes?”

 

“...why me?” Nessa fiddled with a knife from her shoulder, deep in thought. “Why was I...chosen?”

 

“I...I can't answer that for sure. The Traveler chooses who it will.”

 

“There's nothing really... _ special _ about me. From the records in that Clovis Bray facility, I was just another security exo,” she started to throw the knife up by the blade and catching it again, fearless of cuts and scratches. “Hell, there were better guards than me. Better fighters. Better people.”

 

Aegis gazed at his guardian's forlorn figure, slumped and leaning against the wall, her feet dangling downwards to a fatal fall. Not that she had any worry. He had heard stories of guardians who questioned their status as chosen, who became angry at a silent god. He hoped his would not be the same.

 

“We're all just walking, talking  _ corpses _ aren't we?” Nessa nearly spat the words out. “What makes us different from people like Takanome? Amanda?” She twirled the knife and jammed it into the concrete violently, sinking it deep enough for it to stay there. “Takanome was braver than most of us, and Amanda has lost more than many of us!”

 

Aegis watched his guardian’s violent outburst, saddened. “...where is this going?”

 

“Possibly to the Speaker, maybe to Andal. He was always good at this stuff.” Nessa shrugged half-heartedly, a stark difference to her demeanor a few seconds ago.

 

Aegis was silent for a moment, observing Nessa’s still fidgety figure as she plucked the knife up, leaving a groove in the floor. “...if...if you'd like, I can attempt to come up with some parameters based on the database of guardians we have, past or present.”

 

“No. Don't bother.” Nessa shook her head and stood, her back straight. Back to her strong and noble demeanor, then. All squared shoulders and purposeful steps. 

 

Aegis’ response was to disappear again, with a final “you know where to find me” as he did.

 

Little did the huntress know, the future held one truly baffling choice of guardian.


	15. Forged in Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self explanatory, really.

She wasn't always so fast. Nor did she start off as such a good shot. 

 

Death after death taught her to be better. To hurl herself against a steel wall and grow harder. 

 

So she did. 

 

When she clumsily fell to a painful death, she trained her feet to be lighter, or strengthen her light to give her a further jump. 

 

When she died to a sneaky fallen, she learned to be wary of the slightest movement, to know everything about the room she was in.

 

When she failed to dodge a scorch cannon she trained her reflexes to be able to dodge before her brain even registered it. 

 

But this was before the Last City. Before Shaxx built his Crucible. When Nessa had to learn in the wilderness and her own near deaths.

 

So when she picked up two awoken in the City Age, she threw them right into the Crucible until they could rank higher than her consistently.

 

Because even though it was not true battle and nothing but their pride was on the line, it was still battle, and with enough threats they would fight just as hard as if they were truly in war.

 

But mentally they were still kinderguardians, even after almost a year of constant Crucible.

 

Only experience would prepare them for the horrors of the Hive, the sheer terror of the Vex, the brutality of the Cabal, and the savagery of the Fallen.

 

But most of all, only experience would show them loss. 

  
  
  



	16. Who Guards the Guardians?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lost tale of a reluctant guardian and his ghost who sacrificed himself to free him.

Searching. He’d been searching for so long now. He had searched the wastes of the EDZ, the ruins of Mars, even dared the Vex-infested Venus. 

 

He’d watched as other ghosts found their risen and the warlords and Iron Lords established themselves. He’d watched as the Last City was founded beneath the Traveler, as the Tower was built, as the Moon became a massacre. He’d watched as Crota fell, as Oryx threatened the system and brought the Dreadnaught into Saturn’s rings.

 

Still, no guardian, as they were now called.

 

Until at last, he found him. In Hellas Basin, where previously he was half frozen in ice.

 

He was a good guardian. He named him Helios, after the harsh sun that greeted him. He called himself Lysander.

 

After seeing what happened to all the other guardians, all Helios could do was try to protect his guardian. 

 

“Tell me about Saint,” Lysander would ask.

 

And Helios would talk and talk about the most beloved guardian, of how devoted he was to the people, how truly kind he was even with all the killing he did. How great of a warrior he was that he chose to defend rather than attack.

 

When Lysander woke up in the dead of night with a scream, he talked him through it. Experience from other guardians’ ghosts helped.

 

When it didn’t, Helios offered comfort. A light in the dark, a blanket. 

 

Then the Red War happened.

 

The Light disappeared.

 

Helios could barely stay afloat, let alone heal his guardian.

 

Desperation clawed at him when they woke, trapped in a room with the sounds of Cabal marching up and down the halls outside. Through the window they could see the city below, burning and burning orange in the night.

 

There were two ways out. 

 

One, the window that led to a sheer drop down to the city below. Normally Lysander would have no qualms jumping out, but there was no Light, no augmented jumps. 

The other way, the door. Where a dozen Cabal marched by dutifully. The only way out was to bring them elsewhere.

 

Once they came to that conclusion, Helios was adamant to take the hit. Lysander could live without the light, just not as a guardian. And he knew how much the war and the battle scarred his guardian. Without the light...without the obligation...Lysander would be much happier.

 

The ghost dragged his almost lightless shell out of the door, lingering long enough in the hallway for shouts to sound and the Red Legion to give chase. 

 

A stray bullet ripped across the side of his shell, making him drop to the ground. Helios felt what little light left in him drain away, the bright blue light he gave off fading. 

 

Until all that was left was a shell missing some pieces.

 

Until all that Lysander saw when he came back, after the City was retaken, were his shell and a powdery residue on the floor from where Cabal boots crushed the ripped off parts.


	17. Past Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nessa thinks back and dreams of old Dawnings.

The Dawning was in full swing.

 

Nessa watched from her perch, high above the bustle of civilians in the Bazaar below. 

 

They said it would last three weeks this year. Three weeks of festivities and gift giving of questionable origin.

 

Nessa sat high above her two proteges, squabbling about this thing or another over bowls of spicy ramen. Their voices drifted upwards, upwards to the roof she sat on.

 

“...that fair and square!”

 

“...hell you didn't! Look at the feeds!...”

 

...she used to love the questionable gifts she would give and receive in turn. The creativity of guardians who didn't realize they could create without shooting something. 

 

A century ago, Nessa would have been glad to take part in decorating the Tower. She would gather the hunters and deck the halls of the Tower with lanterns and banners heralding the end of the year.

 

Ten years ago, they would have been more solemn, but still having fun. Because that was what he would have wanted. They would have spent a day in his honor, but then, fun as usual.

 

A year ago, she was simply glad to be alive. Glad Cayde and Shiro were alive. There was no decorating, but no moping either.

 

This year...

 

This year, the joy dwindled away, like the sun in winter. Only this time, it had been the winter solstice for months.

 

It had been all of three months. A very dark and lonely three months. 

 

_ “...hey Nessa!” _

 

_ “...Cayde.” _

 

_ “Aww, no enthusiastic greeting? Nothing for your daring dear  ol’ pal?” _

 

_ She felt a smile dance around her mouth, lightened by the giddy presence of the fellow exo. “I'm afraid not,  _ ol’ pal _ , I'm all out of enthusiasm.” _

 

_ “That's too bad then.”  _

 

_ “Hey, no love for me? I'm more daring than he is!” _

 

_ Nessa finally laughed, greeting her old friend, “Welcome back, Brask.” _

 

_ “Brask?! That hurts, Nessa.” _

 

_ “Too bad.” _

 

_ “It's the Dawning! I'm sure Eva would appreciate some help with the decorations.” _

 

_ “...how the hell are we going to install a “10 meter crystal of light”?” _

 

_ “Ikora?” _

 

_ “Ikora.” _

 

_ “Lanterns here, lanterns there, lanterns everywhere!” _

 

The lanterns hurt to look at.

 

Each one was a memory of better times. Harder times, but she was happy then. Enjoyed life. Enjoyed taking missions from Saint and Osiris and Andal.

 

Now...now there was nothing to be glad about. 

 

What use was the Dawning to her?


	18. Dancing is What to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cayde starts a dance party.

Dance and dance and dance.

 

Dancing into the night. 

 

A break in the encroaching darkness to have an impromptu dance party in the hangar.

 

A sea of armored guardians, flowing capes and robes and marks all congregated below the Dead Orbit ships, dancing to the tune or off the tune. 

 

Arach Jalaal watched in distaste, his peace and quiet disturbed by the raucous music and the laughter of guardians.

 

But dancing was one of the few ways guardians could find to enjoy themselves. They could dance anytime, in between missions, breaking out into their moves on patrol, or even gloating over a particularly satisfying kill.

 

...except this time, almost every available guardian had been contacted and called back to the Tower.

 

Eventually, the party trickled out of the hangar, one by one. 

 

Via conga line. 

 

Leading the way was a particularly large-shouldered titan, waving his arms in the air in some semblance of a rhythm. 

 

Up the stairs they went, heading out of the hangar, picking up a far too enthusiastic Cayde with them, Amanda watching with amusement.

 

“Let’s give a blueberry the time of his life!” He announced to the procession of dancing guardians. His hands were propped on his hips in a hero pose.

 

At the whoops and cheers of the crowd, the Hunter Vanguard twirled around and raised Colonel over his head, starting the chant with a “ _ BAWK!” _ . 

 

“Conga conga conga! Conga conga conga!” 

 

When they reached open air, a few guardians who had just arrived from their ships jumped right into the conga line, those already in the line making gaps for the arrivals to fill in. It got messy around there, but they soon sorted themselves out and straightened to point towards one person on the Tower. 

 

Zavala.

Kadi 55-30 and Tess watched on with amusement, but made no move to join. Tess did bob along, chanting the words as well.

 

“Conga conga conga! Conga conga conga!”

 

Nearing Zavala, the chant grew steadily louder and louder until it filled the air and drifted down towards the city, so that those on their roofs could hear the distantly ominous chants of “CONGA CONGA CONGA!”

 

So loud it was that Zavala, who could usually only be disturbed by the Tower collapsing again, turned to see…

 

Cayde with Colonel held over his head, thrusting said chicken side to side (carefully) to the deafening chants of “CONGA CONGA CONGA!” and behind him a never-ending line of dancing guardians, some of which had ended up on top of each other.

 

His eyes widened infinitesimally in horror as they came upon him like a pack of warhounds.

 

Like a wave and led by Cayde, the guardians swept Zavala into their crowd, forgoing their usual respect by firmly but gently shoving him in line, taking up their chant of “CONGA CONGA CONGA! CONGA CONGA CONGA!”

 

Cayde may have tried to rope Shaxx into it. 

 

Even the tallest titan in the group did not dare voice their support.

 

Undaunted, they swept Rahool into their fold, then made their way to the Bazaar. Definitely not to attempt to rope Ikora into it. Definitely not.

 

They passed the spicy ramen shop, at which Cayde shot finger guns at, placing Colonel square on top of his head to free his hands.

 

To everyone’s everlasting surprise, Ikora easily weaved into their procession with only a smirk and a witty remark the majority of the crowd did not catch. Cayde, however, was seen howling with laughter and dragging Colonel in a dramatic waltz with glee.

 

His impromptu dance, however, also brought the entire crowd of guardians into a waltz. Warlock and titan, hunter and warlock, no discrimination was made in the choosing of partners, it was simply grabbing the closest person next to you and dragging them into a twirl and a dip. Laughter flowed freely from the Bazaar as even the civilians joined in, twirling and weaving with the armored titans, getting tangled in the capes of hunters and being lifted by the light of the warlocks.

 

Cayde (and in part Ikora) even dragged Zavala into a three way waltz of sorts, though at this point there was less waltzing and more of simply partner dancing, twirling around and around and around.

 

No worries of the war, of Cabal invasion, of the coming Darkness.

 

Only the joy and laughter of companionship.


	19. Worthy Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A guardian finds an old but new weapon.

The shotgun was smooth, a shiny silver with almost no wear. 

 

When I held it, it seemed to whisper in my ear. Different from the void, but...similar, in a way. 

 

They weren't loud whispers. It was a quiet murmur.

 

For some reason, it made me sad. Like something beautiful had withered away, the weapon its only remnant. 

 

I gazed at the weapon for a long time, running my hands almost reverently over the swoops and dives on it. 

 

The note.

 

Reading it was a paradox. I gave the shotgun to Saint-14? No, that was impossible. He died long before my time. Or he is still dying, again and again, in that room. 

 

He said I made it in a Forge, just like this one. And I did. But it came out as if he had already used it, note and all. 

 

A paradox, a cycle where we both received it and returned it.

 

A perfect paradox.


	20. Where is My Warmind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off an obscure lore bit where Andal called Cayde Rasputin.

“Has anyone seen Cayde today?”

 

Jekyll-1 shook his head, “Nope. Didn’t see him last night either.”

 

Seven-11 frowned, gazing at the empty spot in the Hangar, “Did Zavala let him leave the Tower?”

 

“He’s been leaving for awhile,” Jekyll shrugged his shoulders, a lightness in his figure, “though...I think it’s more Cayde not actually telling Zavala he’s leaving.”

 

“Perks of having a damn station in the Hangar,” Seven muttered, gazing at the jumpships coming in and out. 

 

NK sighed long-sufferingly, straightening, “Let’s just find him before he gets into trouble.”

 

“How would we do that?” Seven grumbled. “Cayde could be pulling a Rasputin and being anywhere and everywhere at once. His ol’ warmind self has awoken, finally got his true fucking potential, yadayadayada,” he said sarcastically, leaning against some crates stacked randomly in front of Cayde’s station.

 

“Maybe Nessa will know?” NK suggested flatly.

 

_ “Who? _ ” 

 

“Nessa-7.”

 

“Helpful. Reaaaal fuckin’ helpful, NK.”

 

“She’s one of Cayde’s closest friends,” Seven explained, “She’s been around for longer than I remember, if anyone knows where Cayde went, it’s her.”

 

“How come the two of you know who the hell this lady is and I don’t?”

 

“She wasn’t really active during the Red War,” Seven shrugged, “So she just never came up.”

 

“Alright, so…” Jekyll glanced around as if he would find Nessa hiding in the shadows somewhere, “Where the fuck do we find her?”

 

“...”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“You don’t fucking know?” Jekyll groaned dramatically, “Seven, surely you know where the hell you find these people?”

 

“Nessa could be anywhere, for all the shit we know,” Seven-11 glowered, “Besides, I never really interacted with her. She’s more of a loner than I am, to my knowledge.’

 

“Real fuckin’ great. We’ve officially lost a vanguard and an old ass lady.”

  
  


...They found the two, in the end.

 

Cayde, with a bullet hole in his chest.

 

And Nessa, who turned out to be another hunter, with her face hidden in the shadow of her hood, holding his dead body reverently from her ship.

 

She was there for the funeral. There for when his casket was open to all to pay their respects. Just as a silent shadow that nobody dare approach, with the waves and waves of discord and grief cascading off her.

 

Then she was gone. 

 

Jekyll, nosy as ever, overheard two awoken, a warlock and a titan, talk about her in hushed voices, though he caught nothing but her name. Just whisper on the wind.

 

Leaving nothing but a curious fireteam, wondering what had happened out there in the Reef.

  
  



	21. High Stakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale of an old Hunter, who fought her way off of Mars.

Her first true encounter with the Light was on Mars, just hours after becoming Risen. 

 

There was a Colossus blocking the path, sheer cliffs on either side. Her knives were jammed into its thick armor in vain attempts to sever its weapons, her ammo was depleted from a previous battalion of Cabal. The only thing pitifully standing between her and a painful death was a rock.

 

She was pinned. The rock was quickly chipping away from the rapid bullets. She could hear it, the sound of the bullets ricocheting off the red martian rock. She could feel the vibrations jarring into her back.

 

“Use the Light!” A disembodied voice called out to her desperately. 

 

She barely registered the fact that her ghost was speaking to her without being corporeal before she yelled “That sounds fucking ludicrous, not to mention oddly religious!” over the gunfire. 

 

Yet, with adrenaline coursing through her limbs, she gave it a shot. She reached deep inside herself, to a place that she had no memory of, like a limb that should not belong. It was new, and frankly terrifying, there was a...light. Harsh yet soft, soothing yet blinding. 

 

She had closed her eyes, she faintly noted.

 

The sounds of gunfire threatening to tear through the rock and drive themselves into her feeble armor faded away into silence. 

 

Gradually, a hum grew in volume, morphing into a hiss as she opened her eyes.

 

The road behind her greeted her.

 

Martian sand was an orange red, yet when her eyes opened, a bright yellow orange licked at the edges of her vision. Fire.

 

Fire travelled up and down her body, bright and glorious, yet it didn’t burn her. In her hand, where once was an empty auto rifle, was a hand cannon, burning with the light of a thousand suns. 

 

Vaguely aware of a time limit on how long she could maintain this, she pivoted and pulled the trigger on the hand cannon. 

 

The first bolt of pure solar energy violently ripped through the Colossus’ gun, leaving it half-molten slag. The second shot veered into its shoulder, staggering it and leaving a charred hole. The third and final shot forced its way into the Colossus’ head, exploding it into flames and leaving only ashes behind.

 

As quickly as the Golden Gun had manifested, the flames burned away, taking the hand cannon with it.

 

Silence echoed through the cliffs, whispering its tale of a Guardian bathed in fire.


	22. Drifter's Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard not to give into temptation...

It was an addiction. 

 

The thrill of power coursing through their veins, using the darkness against other guardians.

 

It was a taste of freedom, a thrill at just doing something the Vanguard would never let them do. 

 

Again and again they returned to that dingy hallway, sign themselves up for Gambit, and launch to wherever the Drifter pointed them towards.

 

They knew it was wrong.

 

The glances between them told each other as much.

 

They shouldn’t be enjoying this taste of dark power.

 

They shouldn’t be associating with someone who talked about killing his ghost in a good light.

 

They shouldn’t be dealing in dark weapons.

 

They shouldn’t be listening to someone goad them into collecting motes that didn’t shine as bright as the light.

 

The motes felt sick. They glowed like light, but there was an illness to it that made it all wrong. Just wrong. 

 

Why was the Drifter carting around a planet-sized ball of dirt?

 

Why did he want the motes so much?

 

And most of all...why did he not want the Vanguard knowing about him?


	23. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Embark on a lavish barge for the time of your life...

The ship gleamed a bright gold, glaring into the raid team's eyes. 

 

The Leviathan.

 

Named for its world-eating ability as it was starting to devour Nessus.

 

It was on personal invitation that the raid team alighted here, on the Embarkment into the Leviathan. They had stumbled across the reprogrammed sweeper frame, and found a message from an “Emperor Calus” from it. 

 

Which now led them to be staring down the long and golden walkway, lined with Cabal legionaries in gold and purple armor. 

 

Everything was gold, save the purple-blue fire that dotted the towering steps into the ship. 

 

Calus’ leering voice boomed out, beckoning the team in. 

 

It was a long walk in, over a multitude of stairs and a man cannon that some of them died on. 

 

As always, the team of guardians had little regard for their own safety. They laughed as their ghosts, shaking their shells, resurrected them. 

 

The raid team, well oiled from years and years of experience together, blazed through the trials Calus set before them. They reached the end, even kicked the light out of Calus himself, with little less than a scratch. 

 

...only to find him a robot. An animatronic. 


	24. Praise the Sun, Void, Arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A silly crackfic tbh.

The Dawning was in full swing, with guardians running to and fro with cookies and ingredients, some of which obtained through...concerning means.

 

All save three guardians, who had gathered around Ikora’s pavilion. 

 

The Warlock Vanguard herself was nowhere to be found, most likely on an errand, or off to visit Osiris in the Infinite Forest, in honor of the Dawning. But no matter where she was, these three guardians were up to, well, not no good, but nothing productive, that was to be sure.

 

The warlock called, “Praise our lord and savior!” with a grin threatening to split his face wide open.

 

“The sun!” The hunter followed up, letting out little giggles.

 

“The void!” The titan chimed in with a serious voice and a perfectly straight face, despite the hilarity of what they were doing. 

 

“And arrrc!” The warlock finished, throwing his hands up into the air dramatically.

 

All three bowed at the waist to almost a perfect ninety degrees, arranged in a triangle. 

 

Then they almost threw themselves to the ground, onto the carpet that Ikora would usually stand on, and praised the Traveler.

 

Actually, they were praising the dazzling crystal that was suspended behind the pavilion. It was different every year, created from Ikora’s own potent light. 

 

...and so often praised by other guardians, as was evident here, in this fireteam’s little ritual.


	25. Gift (Fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long one! In which Nessa gives her hunter pals some Dawning gifts.

Nessa-7 tilted her head back, letting her hood flop away from her face. The breeze was chilly this high up, but it was a pleasant break after a week of intense fieldwork in the caverns below the Cosmodrome, where nothing was truly fresh. Her helmet was quickly transmatted away. 

 

There was no need for it, after all.

 

It was a few years after Twilight Gap. The scars were still borne by those who fought in it, but the City was safe.

 

The next three weeks were dedicated to the Dawning, under the careful eye of one Eva Levante. The lanterns had been set, and Ikora had set the luminous crystal of Light into the air, high above the City. Faint music could be heard, drifting from the Hangar.

 

“When do you think Tevis will be back?” Nessa wondered to her Ghost, who materialized next to her. 

 

“Shouldn't be long,” Aegis replied, “I got a message from his ghost saying that Tevis promised to be here for the Dawning.”

 

Nessa sighed. “Hopefully he's not lying,” she muttered.

 

Aegis pretended not to hear.

 

“Well, no need to dwell. I'll hunt him down if I have to,” the huntress started towards the Vanguard Hall, passing a few wide-eyed greenhorns who had the luck to be resurrected during the Dawning. “For now, I need to get this sword off me.”

  
  


Nessa found Shaxx right where he usually stood. Hands on his hips, an imposing figure to any who was coming down the stairs.

 

Except a few.

 

Including Nessa, as she easily strode up to him, yanking a Hive sword off her back as she approached.

 

Shaxx lifted his gaze from his console, where a Crucible match was displayed. One side was...heavily losing. His eyebrows raised beneath his helmet when he saw the huntress carrying a sword easily more than half her own height (and possibly weight). “Hello, Nessa,” he greeted slowly, mildly perplexed.

 

“Hey, Shaxx,” Nessa grinned, offering the Hive sword to him. 

 

“...thank you?” Shaxx took the sword easily. It even had a little orange bow wrapped around the hilt. 

 

“I was underneath the Cosmodrome for a bit, found a Hive ritual and thought “hey, this would make a great gift to a certain swordsmaster”.” Nessa explained, brushing her hands off. Chitin residue was not very pleasant. 

 

“It’s a good gift,” Shaxx placed it gently onto the table behind him, “and a resourceful one at that.”

 

Nessa barked a laugh, “...and I’m nothing if not resourceful, right?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Happy Dawning, Shaxx.”

 

“Happy Dawning, Nessa.”

  
  


“Andal!” Nessa called.

 

“Hm?” the Hunter Vanguard turned from his map to see Nessa with a basket in hand, wrapped with a red bow. “What’s this?”

 

“Your Dawning gift, you idiot,” Nessa teased affectionately.

 

“Ooh?” Andal accepted the offered basket, which was warm to the touch, and smelled faintly of bread beneath the cliche checkered blanket covering it. “What is it?”

 

“Why don’t you take a look?” Nessa casually lifted herself to sit on the Vanguard table, not giving a shit about the frowns that Osiris shot her way.

 

Lifting the blanket revealed several loaves of bread of various shapes and sizes. Some, Andal recognized, others, not so much. Andal side-eyed Nessa with a grin, “Is this in return for the garlic bread?”

 

“Maybe.” Nessa laughed. Definitely.

 

“Happy Dawning, Nessa.”

 

“And a happy Dawning to you to, Gibbers.”

 

Nessa left the hall, snickering at Andal’s indignant spluttering behind her.

  
  


Aegis materialized next to her head, bouncing brightly. “Guess what news I have from a certain Nightstalker?” He spun his plates excitedly, not even waiting for Nessa to respond, “He’s in the courtyard right now!”

 

“Is he?” Nessa broke into a sprint, rushing past Shaxx and his new Hive sword. “Hopefully he takes some time to check his vault, else he’ll disappear and we won’t be able to find him.”

 

Aegis obediently materialized away, disappearing into a shower of light. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with his guardian. 

 

Nessa burst into the open light, her keen eyes narrowing on Tevis’s purple cloak. She let out a war cry as she picked up the speed, almost blinking, and barreling into Tevis, who let out a squawk of surprise.

 

“Tevis, you asshole, the shadow of my life, you’ve finally come home!” Nessa lamented, barely able to resist bursting into giggles. 

 

“Get off,” Tevis grumbled, shoving Nessa bodily off of him and standing, “Nice to see you too.”

 

“It really is,” Nessa’s excitement dimmed, though she was no less happy. She stood up as well and went to the vaults to her left, quickly pulling something from it.

 

“Welcome back, Tevis.” She offered the item to him, “I hope you stay a while this time.”

 

His eyebrows knitted together as he accepted the item. It was small, and radiated warmth to his palm. In his hand was a little arrow, fashioned out of Nessa’s potent solar light. The chain attached to it was almost pure arc energy, seemingly contained within a very delicate field.

 

“Do you like it?” Nessa awaited his response eagerly, “I had Aegis help with the chain, since even I am not that precise…”

 

“I fucking love it.” Tevis declared, closing his fist around it. The solar light was comforting, after so long with the void as his only companion.

 

“Happy Dawning, Tevis.” Nessa patted his fist gently, “Don’t let the void bite too much.”

 

“Happy Dawning, Nessa.”

  
  


Nessa sighed, fidgeting with her gauntlet. “Well, one more gift. Let’s see what Cayde’s up to today, shall we?”

 

She found the Exo chatting with some younger guardians in the little dance club in the Hangar. Surprisingly, but perhaps not, Andal was with him, spinning a wild tale that was likely only half true.

 

Nessa opened her mouth to greet them with a snarky remark.

 

“Having fun without us?”

 

Tevis’s voice interrupted her from where he had appeared at her right, hood drawn back to show his conventionally attractive ginger head off. A smirk danced perpetually at his lips, and Nessa noticed that at least three guardians swooned a bit at his appearance.

 

Without missing a beat, Andal flashed a sweet smile that looked horribly out of place on his face, “Never. We were just waiting for you to show up.”

 

“A likely story,” Tevis snarked under his breath.

 

Ignoring the two for now, Nessa crossed the short distance to plop down on a couch next to Cayde. 

 

“I should warn you, Nessa,” Andal took a break from snipping at Tevis, “I already gave the kid some spurs.”

 

Nessa promptly burst out laughing, doubling over on the couch to contain her mirth. “This is fucking perfect for you, then,” she managed to wheeze out between giggles. From behind her cloak she produced…

 

...a cowboy hat.

 

Cayde’s eyes became moons as he gazed at the proffered hat. It was slightly modified, with some metal armor and thicker leather for both aesthetic and protection. “Now I can be a true space cowboy,” he breathed, taking the hat reverently and placing it on his head, over his hood.

 

“You look ridiculous.”

 

“Thank you!”

 

“Happy Dawning, all of you.”

 

A chorus of “Happy Dawning”s filled the air. Outside, the snow began to fall, covering the Tower in a light dusting of white as laughter and warmth emanated from the lounge.

  
_ A perfect Dawning,  _ Nessa thought, watching her friends laugh and tease with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEa there might be an angst version idk.


	26. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many decades after the Red War, Nessa-7 seeks to find her dear friend on one last desperate mission...

It was a trap. She should’ve known it was a trap. 

 

Nebula’s signal going off in the middle of one Savathun’s war-moons was too good to be true. It shouldn’t be true.

 

Nebula had been lost to the Hive countless years past, on a mission she undertook with Leilani and another hunter, not Nessa. 

 

Maybe if she had gone with them…or trained them harder, better. If she had gone with them, then maybe, just maybe, she would not die alone in these chitin caverns.

 

Alone…right.

 

All alone.

 

Shaxx. Andal. Tevis. Cayde. Shiro. Nebula. Leilani. Even Amanda had passed, her mortal life dripping away as certainly as the sun would rise.

 

Everyone she ever bothered to care about. 

 

She must be the oldest guardian alive by now. 

 

So many years, centuries, even, passed by and she forgot to cherish them in the moment. All she had left were these broken memories even as the City expanded and grew strong. 

 

Until guardians started to dwindle away. The Traveler sensed that it was safe. Ghosts stopped going out. The old guardians became distant.

 

Until Savathun and her war-moons descended like a swarm of locusts.

 

Guardian after guardian fell. Shaxx, lost when Savathun struck down the Tower directly. Shiro, lost in action. 

 

Nessa tried. Again and again she threw herself against the darkness. Anger and grief clawed at her heart, compelling her to do reckless things she would never have done so many years ago. The days seemed to be everlasting dark, the war-moons surrounding Earth and blocking the sunlight. 

 

Aegis… Her ghost watched his guardian become isolated in the dark, when she needed someone the most. He tried and tried to reach her, and was sometimes awarded with a strained smile.

 

“It’s okay.”

It was not okay.

 

Against Aegis’s better judgement, he agreed to this mission.

 

A vain attempt to recover Nebula, even if they could only find her mark or some other trace of her. 

 

This mission, that led to Nessa wishing she had listened to Eris more. That led Nessa to shadestep from shadow to shadow to avoid an onslaught of Hive and failed. That led to Nessa running for dear life through the caverns, ammo empty and light suppressed. 

 

The depths of the war-moons were too deep for the Traveler’s light to reach, it seemed. But there was enough of her own light to maintain an Arcstaff, at least. 

 

The shrieks of Hive and Taken thrall alike forced her feet to run faster, skidding on the the rough chitin as she scrambled to turn away from an Ogre that appeared in an opening to another tunnel. 

 

She felt as if she was running in circles. She had been forced to take the left turn one too many times now-

 

Oh.

 

Nessa burst through the thin chitin stalagmites that covered the tunnel opening, and found herself in a cave with Hive-crafted pillars stretching into the ceiling. It fleetingly reminded her of the hollows beneath the Moon, before humanity reclaimed it.

 

Two wizards, helpfully labeled by Aegis with names, though she did not pay attention to them, turned and shrieked their songs of death. 

 

Nessa spotted an exit to the cavern on the other side, past the Deathsingers. If she could reach it…

 

Suddenly, a blinding pain seared down her back. Nessa’s eyes widened in shock as she felt her feet go slack, sending her to the ground. 

 

Dimly, she heard the shrieks of the thrall grow louder, but everything was muted, as if she was floating underwater. Her vision went fuzzy, static and darkness creeping in on the edges.

 

A light, soothing blue, glowed on her face. 

 

Panic. 

 

But her voice would not work.

 

“...gis,” her voice was glitched and blotted with static. “A.g..is n...O!”

 

Purple and blue flashed above her. Blinding panic followed and forced her to push herself up in an attempt to block the sniper shot of an acolyte far off.

 

Yet…

 

A soft blue light, hazy in her malfunctioning eyes, seemed to explode from where her hands had wrapped around her ghost.

 

_ Too late. _

 

“No…”

 

Nevermind the fact that she had been rendered mortal, Aegis...her ghost...her companion from the very beginning, had been lost.

 

Again she had failed to cherish him in the moments past. Again she was left with only the shattered and burning memories of her ghost. 

 

His shell was left, her mind registered. Vaguely, but there, even as the thrall and knights were practically upon her. 

 

Her.

 

No longer “them”.

 

Her eyes burned with tears, rage, even pain. Her mind flashed to countless times when fire had been her comfort, even as arc coursed easiest through her veins. It remembered and it used the memory to conjure eight final knives, almost burning her own fingers in their fire, and sent them sailing against the tide of thrall.

 

Their shrieks crescendoed as they burned. But the knight was merely scorched and turned its hateful eyes against her.

 

From where Nessa had failed to land on her feet, the knight and its sword seemed more imposing than ever. 

 

Static corrupted her vision. 

 

The frenzied swipes of the thralls finally bore down on her, yet her eyes could only stare at the sword blade…

 

Thoughts drifted to all the people she had held close even as the blade seemed to fall in slow motion.

 

Her limbs failed and she flopped gracelessly on her side.

 

_ At last… _

 

_ Sweet dreams... _


	27. Voices in My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Void comes in many shapes, many abilities, but all of them devour and whisper secrets in their user's ears.

Nessa crouched in a tree, high above on a branch thick enough to support her and another's weight. But just to be safe, she leaned part of her weight on a palm against the trunk, the other hand grasping a hand cannon.

 

The clearing below was swarming with Fallen. Captains, vandals, dregs, even a servitor wandered through.

 

There were too many for her to efficiently take out with the weapons she had on her; the hand cannon, a shotgun, and a sniper. She could, technically, clear them out with a fast Arc Staff, but...

 

Tethering them all and pumping as much damage as she could into the captains would have to do.

 

The hunter shifted on the branch, careful not to shake it overmuch. Away the hand cannon went as she stood, a palm still on the trunk for balance. 

 

Silently, she jumped off the branch, her cape billowing out behind her as she started to freefall.

 

Nessa hated using the Void. Everytime she focused on the darkest version of light there was, the voices in her head crescendoed. Only her long, long years of enduring it allowed her to stubbornly pull back the Shadowshot. 

 

She released the Void bow, feeling it dissipate beneath her hands even as the Shadowshot hurtled straight and true at the Servitor in the middle of the clearing. 

 

The whispers died down for the time the tether took to flare to life.

 

Then, as Nessa landed in a roll amidst the crowd of dregs, void tethers shot out like violent whips to chain the Fallen in place. 

 

What alarm the Fallen had felt when the Guardian had fallen from the sky was quickly replaced with spine-chilling fear. 

 

Nessa raised her head, hearing the whispers practically howl with joy. The Fallen could hear it, too, now. 

 

One dreg fell writhing to his knees, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the whispers. 

 

All it took was a grenade for the clearing to empty, the Fallen demolished by the Void. 

 

The whispers died down, retreating and quieting back into a dull echo in the back of her mind.

 


	28. Ironborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short as fuck.

The winds howled, blowing the snow in an erratic path westward. 

 

Their vantage point was so high up that the Cosmodrome appeared smaller, less imposing. Yet this was not the Peak of the mountain. 

 

Fortunately, the Peak was not their destination. 

 

SIVA had been quenched, the virus halted in its tracks before it spread to the stars. Its wildness made the Iron Lords wary of the warminds, but that was a problem for another day. 

 

Today, there was a century-old helmet that had to be returned to a certain Iron Lord. 

 

It was scorched and blackened, but the details had survived. Despite being victim to SIVA and the explosions that had fused that vault door shut, it had survived.

 

Up and up the guardian climbed, battle-weary yet determined. 


	29. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A city of secrets, a city of curses.

The Dreaming City was cursed. 

 

Cursed with a vile curse that plagued the once beautiful walls with Taken goo and kept the city from being habitable. 

 

There was no doubt around that fact. The only doubt that creeped in was whether or not Queen Mara would return and make things right. 

 

Petra had been working herself to the bone trying to hold off the curse, trying to keep the city and its people alive for just another week.

 

The guardians had been helping, she had to admit. No matter what reservations or hatred her Queen or her brother had for them. The guardians had earned her respect. It was by their hand the curse had been held back.

 

But...it was also by their hand that the Ahamkara Riven had been killed. And it was with her death that the curse was laid. But if that was the case, then the blame lay on Petra’s shoulders. 

 

She had been the one to seek their help.

 

And in that revelation came another. One...one that would shatter the Queen’s Wrath’s faith.

 

The possibility that...the Queen meant for this to happen.

 

Meant for her people to suffer.

 

Meant for the Dreaming City to wither and rot despite their best efforts to keep the curse at bay. 

  
  



	30. New Vistas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old Hunter's recollection of false excitement.

She had been excited, at first, at the prospect of new worlds to reclaim. A different view, so to speak. 

 

She’d never seen Venus, the glaciers of Mars, or Mercury in it’s dusty glory. 

 

Only the red sands of the Clovis Bray facilities and the green and brown of Earth. 

 

The mission to reclaim the stars came with the completion of the walls and the Tower, the new cradle of humanity. 

 

She and Shaxx looked forward, young and bright as they were back then, to take on the dangers that would threaten humanity. 

 

But the stars had different plans.

 

They stumbled across the Ahamkara, the Cabal, and the Hive. All horrors untold of and unheard of that exemplified the Darkness better than the scavenging Fallen ever could. And the Fallen came out of the corners of the Sol system like termites out of the woodworks. 

 

They got their new experiences all right. 

 

They just didn’t expect them to come with ever more terrifying nightmares, waking or dreaming.


	31. Make a Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wish-dragon's ability to warp reality is a tempting one, especially for someone who has lost so much and gained very little.

There were so many traditions that consisted of making a wish. 

 

Make a wish on your birthday, and as long as you kept it secret, it would come true. 

 

Make a wish at exactly 11:11, just for fun. 

 

Make a wish to a wish-dragon and they would grant it, taking power from your wish.

 

Nessa sometimes wondered what she would have wished for. She remembered the Ahamkara Hunt, of course, and took part in it herself. Yet, during that time, she had never really put true  _ desire _ into her wishes. Sometimes, she would frivolously wish for the fight to end, knowing it never really would. Not for her. Not for her friends. 

 

She had heard of titans wishing for the fight to never end, taking pleasure in the struggles, but Nessa knew it never would, so why bother wishing for it? 

 

Now…

 

Now she sometimes wished the wish-dragons would come back. Sometimes she wished her friends were back, safe and happy. Sometimes she wished she could relive those years, over and over.

 

Sometimes, when she looked out across the city, she felt only bitterness at the people. The civilians. The ones who didn’t have to suffer the aching loss again and again, every day, forever.

 

And then she would wish, all over again, that she could turn back time and go back.

 

She wished on the Traveler, the birthday her ghost told her about, exactly 11:11, even stared into the night sky on the turn of the year and wished on the fireworks that exploded over the city.

 

None of them came true. 

 

And she knew, in the end, that it was still a frivolous wish, one that she knew would never come true.

 

Then Riven was found. 

 

The last known Ahamkara.

 

And a flicker of hope betrayed her. Riven could grant her the wish. Riven could turn back time. Riven could give Nessa her happiness. 

 

Shaxx, her oldest and closest friend, told her of the dangers. She was blinded by hope, he said. Riven would not grant her her wish. The Ahamkara would only take her desires and warp them until Nessa regretted ever hoping to wish.

 

She never saw Riven. 

 

When she traveled into the Dreaming City, long after a fireteam had taken down Riven, in pursuit of the truth, there would be a little voice whispering in her ear. Different from the Void’s cacophony, it seemed to mingle in the voices of Andal and Cayde and Shiro, telling her to free them, that she could see them again.

 

But Shaxx’s voice, always loud and demanding, drowned them out with cautions, and Nessa never heeded them. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> https://leafdragon117.tumblr.com


End file.
